2.4.13
WOW! Closed.
Automatic 250 / FP100c
There’s just something about Salisbury Beach in the winter.
2.5.13
Knox Box
Spectra / PZ680
Hand-held long exposure
2.6.13
Jasmine
Spectra / PZ680
Here she is, the source of my angst this week, sporting a freshly shaved spot from her recent vet visit. Jazzy is hard to photograph; as soon as you point a camera at her she charges at you for attention.
I stand in the long glass hallway of Big City Trauma Center, back to the windows as a throng of humanity streams past.
We knew her life might be shortened when we adopted. Shortened however isn’t supposed to mean short. It’s not supposed to be this way.
I hide behind my sunglasses and choke down my emotions as I send an email to order a tiny urn. I should call, but I can’t talk about it now. It’s not supposed to be this way.
My city is full of world class hospitals. If your family member is small and furry, that’s OK too. We have a kitty ICU, kitty cardiologists, and even kitty thoracic surgery if you want to go that far. It’s still not supposed to be this way.
We have a diagnosis, and the doctors are talking in terms of weeks. It’s. Not. Supposed. To. Be. This. Way.
We will make her as comfortable as we can and cherish our remaining time together. I cannot imagine waking up without her little furry body nestled against my hip, or falling asleep without her sweet crossed eyes staring over my book. We were supposed to have much longer. She deserves much longer. It’s not supposed to be this way.
I gather myself together, rein in my emotions, and head back to work, safe behind my dark lenses for now. As long as that damn harpist doesn’t show up I’ll be fine.
Polaroid Automatic Land Camera 250, Fuji FP100c, Toshiba electronic flash.
This was my first test of an electronic flash with a pack camera. It worked wonderfully if a bit overexposed. I don't think Noah appreciated it though.
The 250 is my first working pack camera. It was a flea market find which I've converted to use AAA batteries. It's a metal chassis version with a nice large coupled rangefinder. (Though not technically an Impossible film the Fuji FP series are the descendants of the original Polaroid films, so I'm including them in my project.)
January 17 – Thermodog. The fire looks much more impressive in motion than in still life.
July 18 – How to Piss Off Your Cat in 4 Easy Steps
January 19 – Plum Island. Shot on the iPhone with Camera Plus and a Holga filter.
As I sit here and type, the dog is doing it again at my feet. She’s a Tennessee girl, and I don’t think she really likes this New England winter stuff.
5/22 – Chai claims the newest basket in the house. It’s even cooler than a cardboard box!
6/9 – The best place to be on a hot day is stretched out on a cool floor.
6/8 – We stumbled across this old Revere ladder on the ramp at the Point of Pines firehouse. It’s a ‘sweetheart grille’ Seagrave, and if memory serves it dates from 1938. I believe the union is planning to restore it.
Beth insisted on posing with it. The late afternoon sun makes for a poor expression, though.
Just trying to be a bit artsy. This Seagrave is old enough that it still has a manual rotation crank. Elevation and extension are hydraulic, if primitive. I’d sure love to see this one restored.
From back on 3/8 – I’ve mentioned the new ride but never shown it. Here it is at the bus stop in the morning, with ‘Dog is my Co-pilot.’
3/21 – The calendar says spring, but no one told the weathermen.
3/21 – Jasmine watches over us by flashlight.
3/22 – I’ve mentioned this in previousposts but never shown it before (two links there). If you call the FD in my hometown, this is one of the places it rings. And it still RINGS.
3/23 – Beth and I have taken to watching the cranes replacing the Hines Bridge during our spare moments.
3/27 – And we wait.
3/28 – Science Park on the Green Line.
3/28 – There are still PCC cars running at Mattapan. I’ve known they were there for years, but I finally got out to see them today.
The small tuxedo cat watches and waits. Something is wrong. Lunch is very late. “Mrow?” she asks Frank. “Feed me?” Frank doesn’t answer. He seems very intent on his nap on the floor. It’s an odd place for Frank to nap, but it’s one of her favorite spots. Maybe he’s finally learning from her.
Time passes. She’s getting really hungry; it’s almost time for dinner. She tries again, “Mrow?!” Frank still doesn’t answer, so she tickles his nose with a paw. Nothing. She retreats to the windowsill to watch the birds outside and imagine how tasty they are.
Hey, what’s this? A fire engine! The firemen are coming this way. Maybe they’ll feed her. She greets them as they come through the door: “Mrow! Thank goodness you’re here. I’m starving!” They all ignore her and begin trying to wake up Frank.
That’s not so bad. If they wake Frank, he can feed her. That’s his job.
The firemen have a talking box. It beeps and says weird things like “No Shock Advised.” Of course no shock is advised! Cat food is advised! The cat is hungry!
They open a large red bag. Perhaps that’s where they carry their cat food. The tuxedo sticks her head inside. It smells funny, like plastic and medicine, but no cat food. The firemen shoo her away. How ungrateful! Don’t they know dinner guests should always bring a gift for the host?
A pair of men in white shirts arrive. They have a smell about them, like the vet’s office. She’s not so sure about them, but they’re trying to wake Frank too. They can’t be all bad. She wanders into the group to help. After all, she has years of experience waking him up, and it’s time for dinner.
One of the men gently lifts her and sets her aside with a pat on the head, while the other stares at a small TV screen he’s brought and mumbles something about “asystole.” She retreats to the table, a spot safely above the many pairs of dangerous black boots milling around, and she watches. Frank seems to be taking a really deep nap this afternoon.
“Mrow?! Frank, wake up. It’s almost dinner time, and we seem to have company. Frank?”
She continues to watch from the table as the men slide a stretcher under Frank and carry him away. She’s beginning to think something is really wrong here. “Hey Frank? Frank, where are you going? I’m hungry here! Someone needs to feed the cat! Frank?”
While scrolling back through the blog this morning, I realized I’ve been remiss. Back on 11/18 I introduced Jasmine to the Interwebz as a foster cat in need of a Forever Home.
As alluded in my year-end post, Jasmine no longer needs a new home. My Christmas gifts to Mrs. Mack505 included one Certified Preowned Siamese Cat. Somehow I neglected to mention that fact here.
